Meant To Be
by Zerbinetta
Summary: Some messages are not meant to be received... some prayers are meant to be answered. What if Christine would appear on the rooftop to hear Erik pray to God for her love? Oneshot, Kay based, completely EC


**Author's notes: **Phew… this was a tough one. One-shot, Kay based, Christine's POV (because I would definitely have done this in her place). Read, review and I'll be eternally grateful.

X X X

_I was overcome with a fierce urge to climb up and up into the cool evening breeze, somewhere very high where I might feel closer to the God in Whom I had so constantly denied belief. _

_It's all been a lie, you see, one long sorry lie, designed to save my pride from further hurt, to say there is no God. In my heart I still believe in miracles. God is the greatest magician of all. He Who turns an ugly caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly is surely capable of changing distaste and fear into love. _

_Tonight I'm prepared to go down on my knees, just as I used to do as a very small child, and offer up one last purely infantile bargain. _

_"Please, God, let her love me and I promise to be good forever..."_

Erik

X X X

Minutes ago, I was pacing back and forth in my beautiful prison, not knowing what to do. I needed to pray, to call out to God… but here, under the ground, I knew he would never hear me. This heavenly Hell, the prison of a cursed angel, was not a place where my calls would be answered.

Fortunately, I knew the way out and as I stepped out of the mirror in my dressing room, my first impulse was to flee, flee the Opera… but I knew I couldn't. I had no idea where Erik went or when he would be back.

All I knew is I couldn't leave.

Confusion was all I felt at the current moment. It's all been a lie… there is no Angel of Music, no heaven-sent guide… only Erik. And yet he has taught me how to reach the sky. The child that I was, my thoughts quickly turned to Raoul. I could write to him, tell him of what has happened!

No. I needed to be alone to sort out what I felt. And who else should I ask for guidance than God himself? Yes, I thought, I would return to my original idea. Confession has always been a helpful part of the Catholic tradition. Perhaps now, confessing my feelings to God himself rather than a priest would help me, for there was no priest who would understand.

I was one of the few who knew the alternative route to the rooftop, to the freedom of the sky and starlight. Tonight, I believed in God more than ever. And I needed him to answer the question that was burning in the shell of my body, the prisoner of the cell of my mind, threatening to escape at every moment.

I knew I loved the Angel of Music, in a way. The question was simple… did I love Erik?

I moved like a shadow, quiet and slippery, as I ascended to my destination. The door to freedom opened without a single sound, which seemed strange, but I dismissed it. A shadow I was and a shadow I would remain – stirring sounds wasn't something I could do.

A deep breath seemed to have refreshed me more than anything. I wasn't claustrophobic, but the house on the lake always gave you a sense of limitation of space, ignoring even the masses of soil that were above you.

I said nothing, simply stared at the night sky, motionless, my face pleading. God would surely answer the question I didn't dare voice. He knew that deep in my heart, I wished to steal the greatest of his angels from Him. He would give me an answer that would pacify my mortal greed.

But nothing in the whole world could have prepared me for the cruel and yet blissful prank He played upon me. Because there, at that very moment, I heard a voice that I knew long ago belonged to Heaven, now quiet, shy, but strong in the silence of the night. Its broken tone made me wish to give comfort… but it was the words that made me cry. For in the darkness of the night, I heard an answer to my question.

"Please, God, let her love me and I promise to be good forever..."

My eyes tore themselves from the stars and frantically searched for the source of the plea, resting finally on a kneeling, praying figure in the shadow of Apollo's Lyre. Praying… for the first time, his voice sounded uncertain and obedient. He was begging the Creator for one mercy, one small chance to share what all human beings felt – emotions other than hatred or anger. A chance to be loved.

Though I tried, I couldn't remember how to breathe. Never before have I seen such a desperate plea. And, glancing up, I whispered to the Heavens:

"You have brought me here. Please give me strength, Lord… and I shall fulfill his wish."

The urge to breathe returned to me and I drew as much air as I could into my lungs. Trembling, I walked to the kneeling figure, who seemed oblivious to the material world, trapped in a dialogue with God.

But he noticed the presence of another – how couldn't he? – jumping swiftly to his legs like a startled predator, relaxing only slightly when he saw me.

"Christine…" Fear crept into his voice. He realized I could have… must have… heard. "Christine, I…"

I brought a finger to his lips, silencing him before he would take my courage away. Our parts reversed, I had to be the one who spoke now, he the listener.

"Erik…" I swallowed the hesitation – I had to say this. They say thirteen is an unlucky number, but it was that many words that made the decision for me. This man worshipped the air I breathed, the ground I walked on… I was unworthy of him. But refusing him would rip his heart to shreds and that now seemed, to me, to be the final sin.

"Erik… I know the Lord will forgive me for denying him choice in this matter… and for the sin of greed, of not being able to part with his most prized angel." Some divine force must have entered my soul, giving me strength to not look away from those unnaturally soft eyes, shining with the fear of a small boy asking for affection and knowing he was about to be refused. And, hearing the exact opposite of what he expected to hear, I saw tears form in the burning eyes that never left mine.

"I am a weak child, Erik, I do not deserve to even be in your presence… but, unworthy as I am, I cannot help myself. I love you, Erik." The tears now fell from his eyes as he looked at me with such tremendous hope and relief that it brought tears to my own eyes as well.

"I love you in so many different ways… you have given me a reason to live, something to fill the emptiness of my heart. I love you in every sense of the word. I do not ask you to fulfill the promise you gave God simply for the sake of that love, but I ask you to consider keeping it. But either way you choose, whatever you say or do, I will love you."

Gently, I brought my hand to his face, removing the mask. If he expected my expression to change, he was wrong… and if I expected that there was no way the hope in his eyes would increase, I was also wrong.

"Angel or Phantom, masked or bare before my eyes, it matters not to me. I see only infinite beauty… and if I understood correctly that you wish to reward me with the greatest of honors – your love – know that it shan't be refused."

I smiled despite the tears. Erik, for the first time since I had met him, speechless, collapsed into my embrace, sobbing gently. I wrapped my arms around him and as he withdrew, he entwined my fingers with his.

"Christine… no one has ever given me what you have now." His voice was shaking from the tears and a short silence followed before he asked, "May I… may I ask something from you, greedy as it may sound?"

"Whatever you wish."

"A kiss." he whispered, "A kiss from the only angel that walks this earth is all I ask for. So I can be certain that this isn't just another torturous dream from which I shall wake, learning that you have flied away from me once more."

Without hesitation, without any rational thought, acting as if on impulse, I did as he asked, crushing our lips together instinctively. I would give him a zillion kisses if he asked it of me and it would still never be enough to compare to what he had given me. In him, I had found a light in the darkened shades of reality, a sanctuary, a soulmate.

I could feel strong arms snaking their way around my waist, pulling me closer to him, if that was even physically possible, as he deepened the kiss to the point I was certain I would faint. The sensation was too strong… but he refused to let me fall unconscious. He refused to let me go, commanding me silently to stay as I was, touching him, wanting him, kissing him…

It was a first kiss to both of us, but it was certain that it was one of the ages. Pure bliss was all we could feel and if time would simply stop and we would be allowed to remain together like this, it would be more than enough.

But - curse the limitations of the human body! – we had to break apart, gasping for air. And though my eyelids were heavy, ecstasy still pulsing through my veins, I am quite certain I saw Erik smile for the first time.

"Then I was right to believe in God… he has to exist when he sent an angel to save me." he whispered, still refusing to break the embrace. And, for there needed to be no more masks hiding our feelings from each other, he whispered what I yearned to hear from the beginning.

"Christine, I love you."

And I knew, with that following kiss, that God was now smiling at two of his angels.

X X X

**_Fin_ **


End file.
